by Kristy Love
Sometime later, Cassandra pulled up in her car. She hopped out, not even bothering to close her car door or turn the car off. She pulled me into her arms and I clung to her like I needed her to live. In a lot of ways I did. She comforted me, whispering words into my ears as I held her too tightly and cried too hard.
When my eyes finally dried and I could stand on my own, she led me back to her car. I got in and collapsed against the seat. As she drove us back to her apartment, I told her everything. Finding my mom. The police saying she’d been using for a long time. How I should have known. She comforted me and told me it wasn’t my fault.
She had left Ben with Maria so she could come and get me. Back at her apartment, I climbed into her bed immediately and pulled her to me, needing to feel her. Before long, holding her turned into touching her and then I undressed her. I moved on top of her and slid inside her, getting lost in the feel of her. I needed to feel her to remember that I was alive and that life would be okay. As I moved inside her, she kept touching me and whispering sweet words.
When we both finished and panting, I pulled her close to me, needing to feel her against me still. She brushed my hair off my face, her eyes full of sorrow. I fell asleep feeling so loved yet so alone.
JAX HAD BECOME a robot. As they planned the funeral he never showed any emotion and didn’t care about any of the arrangements. I went with them to the funeral home to plan it. The funeral director asked one question and then Jax left. I didn’t hear from him until the next day. He was falling apart and I had no idea what to do to help him. Every time I saw him, he looked as though he hadn’t slept. His eyes were always bloodshot and his clothes were always rumpled. My heart broke for him. I tried to talk to him, but he was completely closed off. Any attempt ended in him storming off.
It had only been three days.
The funeral was only a few hours away and Jax was nowhere in sight. I was over at Ry’s and she was trying desperately to hold it together. I had left Ben with Maria, not wanting him to be at the funeral. Ry kept checking her phone, hoping to hear from Jax. Every time there was nothing, she looked more defeated.
“We need to get to the funeral home, Ry,” Will said, his voice gentle and his arms around her.
“What about Jax?” she asked. Will and I exchanged looks.
“I’ll get her to the funeral home,” “You go check on Jax?”
“Okay.” He kissed the side of Ry’s head and left. Ry got ready to leave, but she was moving slowly looking completely devastated. I didn’t say much of anything, letting her grieve and go at her own pace. I knew what it was like to lose family and I hated that they were going through it. I had seen how close they were to their mother, and her death seemed so sudden. One second she was doing really well and the next she had died of an overdose.
When Ry was ready we headed to the funeral home and finished the last preparations. The casket was in the front of the room, closed. Ry kept staring at it for long moments, heartbreak written all over her face.
“Can I have a moment alone?” she asked.
“Sure.”
I walked out of the room and went down the hall. My timing was perfect because Jax and Will were walking toward me. Will look put together in his crisp black suit and white shirt. One button was buttoned on his suit jacket and he was freshly shaved. Jax, on the other hand, looked as if he had slept in his clothes. His hair was everywhere and his suit was rumpled. He had a couple days’ worth of stubble on his face and his eyes were bloodshot. I tried really hard to keep my face passive, but inside I was worried.
“Hey,” I said when they got closer.
“Hi. Where’s Ry?” Will asked. Jax nodded.
“She asked for a few minutes alone.”
“Does she seem okay?”
I shrugged. “About as okay as she can be, I guess.” Jax still hadn’t met my eyes. He was staring at the carpet with his hands in his pockets. I wanted to ask him how he was doing, but his appearance made the answer clear.
“I’m going to go check on her,” Will said. I nodded. That left me alone with Jax. He continued staring at the floor and I continued staring at him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, finally giving in. His bloodshot eyes came up and met my own. He had deep circles under his eyes and the sadness covering his face was enough to move me forward. I pulled him into my arms. I held him while he clutched me tightly, as if he was afraid I’d disappear. He smelled of cigarettes and alcohol making my stomach churn. He never answered me, but I figured I knew the answer. It was more a rhetorical question, something to break the ice. Awkwardness hung in the air around us.
“Do you want to come in?” Will asked from behind me. I let go of Jax and turned toward him. Jax stared at the room like it held a monster that would eat him alive. Like his own demons. The thought caught me off guard; I had no idea where it came from. I pushed it away. Jax walked forward, his arm tight around my shoulders. I walked with him. The closer we got to the room, the tighter his grip on me got.
Ry turned toward us when we entered the room. Her eyes were hard and angry when she looked at Jax. I swallowed. This was going to be a lot harder than I imagined it would be. She walked briskly past Jax, not saying anything. Jax seemed to slump over a bit, as though Ry had physically hit him.
People began to arrive, though there weren’t many. They streamed in and offered their condolences. There were a few people she’d worked with at the hardware store, the owner of the store, people she had met in rehab and stayed in touch with, her old sobriety sponsor, and a few random people she was friends with. It was sad to think that she had lived her whole life and less than twenty people showed up at her funeral.
It was a quick service and most of the people left directly afterwards. Jax, Ry, Will, and I were heading out to the limo when Ry finally addressed Jax.
“I hope you’re happy,” she said, anger and bitterness dripping from her words.
“What?” Jax stopped walking and looked at her.
“Our mother is dead because you had to save your own fucking ass.”
“I didn’t save my own ass, Ry. I was trying to save hers.”
“Did you know she had been buying drugs for a while?”
“And how the fuck would you know this, Ry?”
“The police looked through her phone. She had texts going back months to drug dealers.” Jax looked stunned speechless. “And do you know what her sponsor said to me in there? That the first sip of alcohol was the first step to this. So, congratulations, Jaxon. You killed our mother.”
I gasped. Jax jerked backward. Will pulled away from Ry.
“Don’t go down this road, Ry. It won’t solve anything. Your mom was an adult. She knew the consequences of drinking and drugs,” Will said, trying to calm down Ry. Instead, she glared at him.
“It would have been better if her son had tried to protect her instead of basically sticking a needle in her arm.”
“Fuck you, Ry,” Jax bit out.
“Yeah, go to your old default, Jax. Real mature. Did you know that most heroin users won’t touch alcohol? Because the chance of death is really high when you mix the two. So when you thought she had stopped drinking, she had. But she replaced it with a fucking needle.”
“Ry,” Will warned. Jax’s body was stiff and he had pulled away from me. I tried to touch him and he moved farther away, but he didn’t leave.
“How was I supposed to know that, Ry? I wasn’t living with her anymore.”
Ry moved forward and shoved Jax in the chest. “You were there when she started drinking again! You told me it was fine! That it was under control! And now she’s fucking dead!” She slammed her fists into Jax’s chest and burst into tears. Jax stood there, taking her punishment. Will stepped forward and pulled Ry into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Ry. I would take it back if I could. I’d change it all, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“You can take your sorry and shove it up your fucking ass, Jax. I don’t need it and I don’t ne
ed you.”
Jax nodded slowly, as though he was absorbing her words and agreeing. Then he turned and walked away.
“Ry, you went way too far,” Will said, his tone harsh. Ry didn’t respond, only buried her face in his chest. I wondered if she realized the damage she had just done to her relationship with Jax.
I turned and ran after Jax. I touched his arm to stop him. His face was blank which scared me. A lot. “She’s just hurting, Jax. She didn’t mean it.”
“But she’s right,” he said, his voice empty and hollow. “I may not have stuck the needle in her arm, but I might as well have. I lied to myself. I knew she would start using and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much I busted my ass, she still ended up relapsing and dying.”
“It’s not your fault, Jax. It really isn’t.”
His eyes met mine showing their emptiness. My heart froze sending a chill down my spine. I had never seen him look this way. “I need to leave.”
“They’re burying your mom. We should go.”
His eyes moved over my head, I assumed, to look at Will and Ry. “They’re fine without me. I’ll see you later.” He turned and walked away. He climbed into his truck and drove away. I stared after him, dread filling my stomach.
THE DAY AFTER the funeral, I was sitting on the floor with Ben, playing trains with him. He ran the train up my arm, across my shoulders and then down my other arm. After the events of the past week, I wanted to stick close to him. I was so sad and heartbroken over everything that had happened with Jax’s mom and I hated to think of putting my own son through that. Or losing my own child. So I sat on the floor and played trains and snuck in all the hugs and kisses I could.
I hadn’t heard from Jax since he left the funeral which worried me. I had called and texted a couple of times, but I figured he needed time to deal with everything that had happened. Between finding his mother dead and Ry placing the blame on him, he had enough to deal with. To keep myself from obsessing about it, I spent my time with Ben. I pretended it worked, because I was still thinking nonstop about Jax.
Ry had texted me a few times, asking if I had heard from Jax, but that was it. She was grieving in her own way, but it was wrong how she handled it. It was too late now, though. The damage was done.
“Hey, Ben, want to get McDonalds for dinner?” I asked. We didn’t often eat out because I couldn’t afford it, but this was a special circumstance. I was emotionally exhausted and I wanted to do something special with Ben.
“Yeah!” he exclaimed, jumping up and clapping. “Chicken nuggets!”
I laughed. “Yeah, you can get chicken nuggets. Let’s get a jacket and shoes on and we’ll go, okay?”
Ben nodded fervently and we got ready to head out. We were in the car, pulling into a parking space at the restaurant when my phone rang. I put the car in park and answered, not looking at the display.
“Hello?” I said.
“Cassandra,” Jax said, his voice low and sad. So sad it broke my heart upon hearing it.
“Hey. How are you doing?” I sat in car, wanting to give him my attention.
“Can I come over?”
“We’re not at home right now. We’re at McDonalds.”
He sighed into the phone. “Which one? Can I meet you?”
“Sure. The one near campus.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Okay, we’ll be here.”
“I love you,” he said softly, so softly I almost didn’t hear it.
“I love you, too.”
We hung up and I got out of the car. The next few minutes were spent unloading Ben from the car, ordering food and selecting a place to sit.
“Thanks, Momma,” Ben said, taking a big bite of a chicken nugget.
“You’re welcome, baby boy.” I smiled. “Thanks for coming out with me today.”
He nodded and I watched him eat. He was so innocent and so sweet. I got my own food out and started eating. I was halfway through my meal by the time Jax arrived. He didn’t go to the front to order, instead he stood at the doors and scanned the room, looking for us. When he found us, he strode over to the table and pulled me out of my chair, holding me close. He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. A weird feeling filled my stomach as I stood there, engulfed in his arms. He had always smelled of cigarettes, but the alcohol was something new. I tried my best to brush it off, though. He was probably just trying to deal with the fact that his mother was dead.
“I’m sorry,” he said into my hair.
I wrapped my arms around him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You’re hurting, Jax. It’s okay.”
“It hurts so much, Cassandra. I miss her.”
“I know,” I said, my heart breaking for him.
“Ry’s words hurt, too. I blame myself and hearing that she blames me too is fucking gutting me.”
“She’s upset. She doesn’t really blame you.”
“She should. I ignored the signs. I was lying to myself.”
I held him, rubbing my hand up and down his back. He held me close and I could tell by the tension in his body that he was fighting hard to hold himself together. I let him have a few moments to collect himself. He pulled away and smiled, though it was strained.
“I’m going to go order something. I’ll be back.” He turned and went to the counter. I sat down, smiling at Ben. He happily munched on his chicken nugget, seemingly unaffected by what had just transpired.
Jax returned to the table once he had his food. We all sat and talked as though everything was normal. As though it were a week ago and Jax hadn’t just lost his mother. We didn’t talk about the fact Jax looked as if he was a little drunk. His eyes were red and his speech was slightly slurred. He looked unkempt, and not in a sexy way. His hair was crazy, his eyes were a little glassy, and he desperately needed a shave.
It was as though nothing had changed. But in my gut, it seemed that nothing was the same.
I WAS AT another party with Dylan. He was snorting a line of coke off a girl’s chest as I was watching him, laughing, finding the whole thing way too funny. The girl was grinning madly at Dylan and when he sat up, he wiped his nose and smiled at her. Then he dove in for a kiss and they began making out heavily. Way too heavily, considering we were in a room full of people. But that wouldn’t stop Dylan.
Now that I had hung out with Dylan more, I realized that he was really uninhibited. He had played it carefully for me, but now that he knew I was cool, he let it all hang out. He used drugs, drank, and hooked up with girls right in front of me. But as long as the liquor kept flowing, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
It’d been about a month since I’d found my mom. I hadn’t spoken to my sister since the funeral and I didn’t care to. I was aware how she truly felt now and I didn’t need that shit in my life. Not even a little bit. I blamed myself for my mom’s death. I didn’t need anyone else laying that blame on me. I felt bad enough on my own. On top of that, I was avoiding Will and he was being an annoying shit about it. He tried to corner me on campus, but I had gotten pretty good at avoiding him. It also didn’t hurt that Dylan played interference for me.
I was still distributing for Dylan and I was drinking every chance I got. The guilt was eating me alive and the only thing that stopped it was alcohol.
So I drank. I drank in my dorm, I drank at parties. I woke in the morning hungover and drank some more. The only time I didn’t drink was when I was with Cassandra, so I wasn’t going over to her place much anymore. I preferred drinking, whether alone or at parties. Drinking made it easier to forget. And I had a lot I needed to forget. These parties had gone from a source of income to a way to avoid life, and I was becoming a pro at avoiding life.
I was well on my way to being drunk and enjoying the scenes around me. Dylan was undressing the girl on the couch. People were grinding in the middle of the floor to music that blaste
d from speakers. Loneliness suddenly hit me. I was in a room surrounded by people and I felt so completely alone that my chest ached. I missed Cassandra. I missed hanging out with her and lying in bed with her. I missed the way she wrapped around me. I missed how well I slept when I was with her. I also missed seeing Ben and hanging out with him. For a two-year-old, he was pretty awesome.
After we had gotten together at McDonalds, I thought I would be able to pull my shit together. I had vowed to myself that I would get straight. Stop drinking as much, stop distributing, go to class, get a legitimate job. I wanted to be deserving of Cassandra and Ben and the life I could have with them.
The problem was, I had no fucking self-control. None. It only took two days before I picked up a bottle and got drunk again. I needed it to forget. The memories were too vivid without it. And then I felt guilty for drinking, so I avoided Cassandra even more. It was a fucking vicious cycle and I had no idea how to get out of it. Or if I even wanted to.
I was feeling tired and fuzzy. Dylan was preoccupied, so we’d likely not be leaving until morning. I stood up, swaying slightly, and walked down the hall. There were always people who crashed at these parties; I hoped since it was still early that I could find a bed to sleep on instead of sleeping on the floor or a couch somewhere. I lucked out in that the first room I found was completely empty. I closed the door behind me and locked it to keep out any visitors. I downed the rest of my drink and set the glass on a piece of furniture. I pulled the covers down and crawled into the bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin. I wanted the warmth of the blankets to erase the loneliness I felt.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, checking it. It was a text from Cassandra. We had texted a little earlier in the day, though it was mostly pleasantries and her attempting to bridge the mounting distance between us. From where I stood, I wasn’t sure if it was possible. The words on the screen were blurry, but I could still make them out.